My Enemy's Enemy
by Mnemosyne77
Summary: Morgana has a prophetic nightmare and realises that the only one who can help is the man who tried to murder her. Set somewhere in Season 3.
1. Fate

**Fate**

Morgana took off her bangle and placed it in her dresser then slowly prepared for bed. She had dismissed Gwen early, concerned that her personal servant would notice her distraction.

The strange distorted images of her dream the night before fascinated and frightened her. She gave a small wry smile. It had been nearly two years since she'd last had a nightmare; a prophetic dream, she corrected herself.

Since Morgause had given her the ensorcelled bangle that allowed her the luxury of a full-night's sleep, she had worn it almost permanently. She'd had it on during the year she'd spent with her sister in the study of magic. She'd had it on when she'd summoned the dead to aid Cenred's invasion. She'd had it on... she paused at the stab of pain that coursed through her, even though the conversation was in her own mind... she'd had it on when that murderous betrayer had poisoned her.

She looked out the window at the black icy cold of winter; the fingers of frost caressing the pane, and drew her fur-lined robe closer around her. It was times like these that she felt so alone. The unusually-harsh winter kept Morgause stranded on the Isle of the Blessed. Her sister's magic did not work as well in winter for reasons that Morgana had not understood. While she waited for spring, she was stuck in a Kingdom surrounded by enemies. Her dangerous charade had so far succeeded in fooling everyone. Everyone except Merlin, that is.

She stilled the vicious flicker of anger that tore through her as she thought about him and what he'd done. Anger was not her friend. She was supposed to be relieved and happy to be home. Obsessive anger over a servant would be noticed and the last thing she wanted was to be noticed.

Their social positions had so far protected her: no one would believe a servant over the King's beloved Ward. But she could also not move against him without attracting attention and suspicion. Not from Uther who doted on her, of course. But Arthur and some others may start asking some difficult questions if she was seen wasting her time on eliminating someone so far beneath her.

The images that had tried to break through the protective magic of the bangle tapped insistently at her brain. There was something she needed to know and only one way to find out what it was.

She climbed beneath the warm sheets, the heated brick Gwen placed in her bed having done its work. She sighed in pleasure as her ice-cold feet thawed. Then she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

And woke up ten minutes later with a sharp intake of breath.

She had wanted to know, had pursued the knowledge and so she had no one else to blame. The question was: what was she going to do about it? How could she stop her nightmare from coming true?


	2. Prophecy

**A/N So, this is going to be a short and simple tale. It's just a plot bunny that's been rattling around in my head since Morgana came back to the castle in Season 3.**

* * *

**Prophecy **

Winter made everyone a bit morose and insular so no one noticed her absorption. No one except Merlin, that is. He cast her constant suspicious looks; obviously thinking she was planning something.

The first night the dream had seemed a glorious prediction of victory. Camelot would fall. It was what she wanted, wasn't it? Uther gone?

She needed to be sure so she kept her bangle off to see if the dream was true or just a random, jumbled amalgam of her own hopes and fears.

The second night it unfolded the same. To a point. And then it changed.

It was one thing to want Uther gone and magic restored to the Kingdom. But should so many innocents be slaughtered as well? The powerless, the ordinary. There were sorcerers, she saw, ones who desperately hid their gifts from everyone. They hid in plain sight: their terror was her terror, the isolation hers as well.

They were mowed down by the tide as much as those who were complicit in Uther's brutal reign.

She woke the next morning uncertain in her determination to ignore the prophecy's warning.

Was it worth the cost?

Then she looked out of her window onto the courtyard and saw an old arthritic man hung for treason. His daughter was a hedge witch and he was guilty of not reporting her to the guards.

His body swung in the pallid winter sunlight and for a moment she saw her own corpse swinging in the breeze. She hardened her heart. This calamity would rid them all of this monster. And sacrifices were necessary in war.

She walked through the halls that day, a small victorious smirk flitting across her face at random moments.

Merlin saw it and she nearly laughed out loud when his white skin went ashen. She waited in an alcove and when he walked by dragged him in and simply smiled.

"Is something wrong, Merlin?" she asked, false concern dripping from her ruby lips. "You look as if you've heard bad news."

"I don't know what you're planning, Morgana, but I will stop you," he fired back in a fierce whisper.

"Me?" she said innocently. "I'm just the King's beautiful and devoted ward. About the only thing I'm planning is what to wear to dinner tonight. Cenred's representative is attending. A girl really should look her best."

"Cenred's representative is here to negotiate reparations for their failed attack. We won, Morgana, and he knows it. Mercia and Camelot will overrun his Kingdom come spring if he does not pay. So if you're planning on conspiring with Cenred..."

"Conspiring with Cenred? A loyal daughter of Camelot would never dream of such a thing, Merlin. But please, make the accusation. Seeing what Uther would do to you for making such a _terrible_ and _false_ allegation about his faithful ward... would make my evening just that more enjoyable."

She smiled at him and said sweetly.

"Of course, if you really believe that I'm up to something you could always murder me in cold blood. Isn't that what you do?"

At that, he wrenched his arm away from hers and stormed off down the corridor.

She allowed herself a small moment of pleasure.

"There was no part of that that wasn't fun," she whispered. And then she strode off towards her rooms. She really did have an occasion to prepare for. And she would endure it all that more easily knowing that everyone attending would soon be dead.

* * *

Morgana woke up with a gasp and then lay back on her down-filled pillows, her long black hair spilling across the bed.

She'd needed the third night, she'd thought, just to be sure. Just to be sure. Maybe it was the images of the dead peasants lying bloody on the ground or a strange sense that the dream hadn't ended.

But she'd put the bangle aside again and dived into sleep hoping to have confirmation of her decision.

She sat up, wrapped her fur-lined robe around her and downed a small glass of spirits to calm her nerves. Morgause had said she was uncontactable and Morgana was alone here. She thought back to the dream image of her own matted hair thick with blood spread across the rust-stained ground.

Everyone in Camelot would die if this dream came true. Everyone. Including her.

She glanced in the mirror at her terror-stricken face and watched as she willed it into steel. If she couldn't stop this dream, she would soon be dead.

She walked across the room to a chair near the dresser and sat in it with her robe wrapped around her icy feet. There was a way out, she thought. There must be. She just needed to work out what it was.

And soon.


	3. Destiny

**Destiny**

Gwen found her still in that same position the next morning: her legs tucked under her and the blanket wrapped around her as though she were a child.

Even her natural bravado could not hide the bleached face and the bags under her eyes.

"My Lady?" Gwen queried her, annoyingly, cluelessly concerned.

Sometimes she thought her servant was only aware of a quarter of what was happening half of the time. Maybe if she spent less time mooning over an equally intellectually-deficient Arthur she would be a bit more perceptive.

"I'm fine, Gwen," she replied, trying hard to make her voice reassuring and not letting her frustration show. Why was someone watching her every minute of every day? She wasn't a child.

"I'm afraid my nightmares have come back. I haven't slept well the last few days."

"Oh, My Lady, I'm so sorry," said Gwen, sincerely. "Let me ask Merlin to bring you something to help you feel better."

"No," said Morgana, somewhat more forcefully than she'd intended. Then she forced her tired face into a wan smile.

"It's still too early. I'll go down and see Gaius later today."

Gwen nodded and then smiled sweetly.

"Why don't I give your apologies for breakfast this morning and bring you something in your chambers in a few hours. You can get some extra sleep."

Morgana looked at the bed and thought of the decision she had to make.

"Yes, Gwen, please," she said with a grateful smile, "that sounds wonderful."

She waited till her maid had left then walked over to the bed and sat on it uncertainly. She really wasn't sure whether she could endure the dream again; endure the image of her cold and lifeless corpse on the hard winter's ground.

But she couldn't help believe that she had this dream for a reason. It had been persistent, insistent, knocking furiously at her mind until she had been forced to let it in. Maybe there was some way she could use her power to force it to reveal all its secrets? Maybe she could... _direct_... the dream? Use her magic to make it tell her what she needed to do to stop it from coming true.

That is, if she could overcome her pain and fear to actually get to sleep. Lord knows she was exhausted enough. She pulled her legs up underneath her into a crossed-leg position and willed herself to calm. Then she closed her eyes and took a few long deep breaths

_A body dropped to the Earth and was covered by snow, then another, and another and another and the city was a field being harvested by death and she could see no cause of the scourge other than the deathly freezing winds of winter._

_She could feel the cold in her feet steal up into the rest of her body and she was slipping too; slipping into the Earth as the ice drove her down. Blood spurted from her hacked throat and pooled in her long dark hair. She looked up at the low grey winter sky and felt it move down slowly to envelope her and take her down into death._

"_No!" she yelled and she forced her mind to roam around the town, forced the dream to tell her what she needed to do to stop this apocalypse._

_And as she lay there, her body frozen to the muddy ground but her mind free, she saw a single figure at the edge of the maelstrom, tears pouring in frozen tracks down his cheeks, his large ears tinged with a touch of frost. Untouched, unaffected but also unable to stop what was happening. _

_The sky broke open and a bright white light shone through and onto his head. She heard a soft musical woman's voice in her mind._

"_You know the truth, Morgana. It's time for the truth to know you."_

Her eyes opened slowly and took in the still-darkened room around her. The stab of fierce pride at her achievement melted away to be replaced with anger and annoyance.

Whoever the light was, she had told Morgana something she already knew but hadn't wanted to admit. When trouble struck Camelot, whether caused by a magical beast or even herself and Morgause, it was Merlin that somehow stopped it.

A simple, bumbling servant boy who seemed at first glance to be so... kind and silly... but who was always there waiting for them in the dark. Who was willing to kill to achieve his goals.

He knew about her magic. He knew about her dreams. In the cold and deserted wasteland of winter, there was no one else to help her. She had no choice.


	4. Seer

**A/N So, I finally saw the Crystal Cave and had a quick debate with myself as to whether to place this after that episode. I've decided yes so Morgana and Merlin have had their so-called "confrontation".**

**For the record, if this show had had any decent plot or character development till now I probably would have enjoyed this episode. As it is, if even **_**Morgause**_** finds Morgana's motivations confusing, how is the audience supposed to deal with them? I'm doing my best to write this characterisation of her but it is challenging.**

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Seer

She strode confidently down the halls toward Gaius' chambers and then stopped short before knocking: a rare moment of doubt.

Gaius was in Uther's chambers tending to his master who wasn't feeling well after the carousing of the night before. Cenred's representative had quickly acquiesced to all their demands in humble penance and the party afterwards had kept many of them up drinking till after the midnight bell.

That left Merlin alone and ready for her to make her plea. She'd rehearsed her lines for hours that morning but was still unsure. Would he reject her? Laugh at her? Disbelieve her?

She thought of their altercation the night she'd decided to kill Uther with the dagger Arthur had gifted her for her birthday. A stupid, precipitous action, Morgause had said. If she killed Uther before he named her as his child she could never inherit the throne.

Still, Merlin had suddenly appeared in her chambers seemingly aggressively-determined to stop her. _How had he known?_ It was just another reason why he was the only one who could help her now.

Damn him.

And, a small dangerous voice whispered at the back of her mind, maybe through working with him she could discover how he always managed to thwart her and stop him. Maybe, if a magical threat was coming to Camelot's gates, no questions would be asked if he fell in the battle. Maybe.

She shivered in the frosty morning air. The mid morning bell had sounded but the sun was barely visible in the miasmal fog. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her and made her final decision on how to approach her plea.

At first she had decided to opt for scared and vulnerable. Men were so determined to be heroes that frail, frightened maiden was so often the best way to manipulate them. It had even worked on Merlin when she had returned to Camelot. He'd actually believed that she would apologise to _him_ when he had been the one who tried to kill _her_. Men were so easy to fool.

But that was then and this was now and he was unlikely to fall for it again. He knew too much. They were enemies, though the thought did not come easily to her. Of course, everyone in power in Camelot was her enemy technically but he was the one who fought against her directly.

No, that's how she needed to approach it. If there was one thing she'd learned from Morgause it's how powerful the truth could be. If she wanted Merlin's help, she would have to make her motives completely transparent. It's the only way he would believe her.

She drew herself up to her full height and knocked self-assuredly on the door. Then she opened it and walked in to find Merlin with his head down over some kind of potion muttering to himself about how overworked he was.

It was so incongruous an image with the man who had poisoned her, the one who had barged into her quarters and tried to physically restrain her, that she nearly lost her temper in anger. She schooled her features into concern.

"Merlin," she said, loudly.

He glanced up, saw her, then quickly took in the room to see if anyone else was there.

"Morgana," he replied and then went back to his potion.

"Is that any way to greet the King's ward, Merlin?"

"My apologies, _My Lady_." His tone left her in no doubt that he thought of her as anything but.

"You should treat me with more respect, Merlin," she fumed despite herself. "I could make your life a living hell."

"Don't worry, My Lady," he said reassuring, "you already make everyone's life a living hell. They're just too blind to notice. Were you after a sleeping draught?"

"If you think I'd drink anything brewed by a cowardly little murderer like you, you're sorely mistaken, Merlin."

A strange look swept over his face then; one she had never seen before and did not recognise. Usually when she mentioned her poisoning, she saw guilt and shame and determined rationalisation. But this...

She mentally shook her head to clear it. This was not how she had intended the conversation to go.

"Merlin," she began again, more earnestly this time. "I..."

She deliberately stopped as if what she had to say was difficult. It was, of course, an easy affectation since what she had to say was the hardest thing she'd ever said in her life.

"I need your help," she finished, her voice hitching slightly with the effort and the mask slipping slightly to show her fear.

"My help?" asked Merlin, incredulously.

She just nodded; the sleepless nights and horrific images of her nightmare finally taking their toll. Some genuine tears began to form. So much for confident and truthful.

"Merlin, I... I know that you and I...," she stopped and smiled wryly, "... but there is no one else and you _have to help me_."

"Help you with what?" a mystified Merlin inquired. He finally stepped away from his potion and walked over toward her. "Morgana? What's going on? What are you scheming now?"

"Sch...," she took a deep breath and decided to ignore that. Her voice dropped slightly as she forced herself to remain calm.

"I had one of my dreams, Merlin. Like I used to. You know, the ones that always... came true."

"What did you see?" he asked, seemingly curious in spite of himself. But wary as well, she realised. And suspicious.

"Someone will cast a spell on Camelot. Maybe they already have. This... Merlin, this is not a winter any of us are going to survive."

"And why are you telling me? After every hateful thing you've done you can hardly care if Camelot falls."

She gave him a look of genuine anger at the implication and protested, "I don't care if _Uther_ falls, Merlin. Yes, I want him gone. Him and his hatred of all my kind."

Honestly, Morgana, she reminded herself. This will only work with honesty.

"And after what you've done to me, how you betrayed me, I wouldn't care if you died too."

"How _I_ betrayed you, Morgana." he exclaimed in angered disbelief, "You conspired with Morgause to kill everybody in Camelot... twice... and you dare stand her and accuse _me_ of betraying _you_.

"You know it's true," she said cuttingly, "that's why you're so angry. You know it's true. You were supposed to be my friend but you didn't come to me, you didn't talk to me. You left me for a year to suffer alone and then you poisoned me."

She stopped herself again. Old arguments would only get in the way. "I conspired with Morgause to overthrow _Uther," _she continued. "I don't want every single man, woman and child in this city to die. But that's what I saw, Merlin. Bodies of everyone lying dead and frozen on the ground. _Everybody_, Merlin."

"Even you," he finished in sudden understanding. "You don't care about saving Camelot. You just want to save yourself. Well, why don't you go to Morgause? She seems to come and go as she pleases."

"Morgause is not contactable at the moment," she admitted.

"What does that mean?" he queried her, disbelievingly.

"I'm not sure, I just know that it's true."

"I'm sorry, Morgana, but I don't trust you. For all I know this is another one of your... games."

"Games? Merlin, you know about my magic and somehow you always know what's happening in Camelot. I don't know how. Do you think it's easy for me to come here and ask you this? I'm doing this because I have no choice.

"And neither do you. I simply don't believe that your mistrust of me is enough for you to risk the lives of everyone around you."

He looked at her for a moment, swallowed, then looked down at this feet. He looked up at her again, his blue eyes dark like onyx in the candelight.

"I don't trust you," he said, earnestly, desperately.

"It's mutual. But as I said, we have no choice."

He just nodded resignedly and then went back to his potion. For a moment she thought she'd lost him but he simply packed away the ingredients he'd been using then sat down on a chair by the table.

"I guess you'd better tell me about this dream then."


	5. Prognostication

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A/N For the pedants, yes I've switched perspectives. One should never ever switch perspectives; it's poor writing. Now onto my chapter in which I've switched perspectives.

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**Prognostications**

The guard shivered slightly on the battements but continued to survey the frozen ground outside with a keen eye. He had no concerns that there would be any trouble, of course. Only a fool would attack in winter; particularly in a winter so unusually bitter as this one was.

His relief guard had been due an hour ago and he constantly had to struggle to keep himself alert. His mind seemed determined for him to already be at home in front of the warm hearth with soup in his belly and his new baby girl drowsing in his arms.

He wasn't angry at his friend though; a winter like this could make it difficult for any man to struggle out of bed in the morning.

He glanced up at the damp grey sky looming over him and shivered; this time not from the cold. Then he stroked the piece of wrought iron hanging from his neck and said a quick prayer in the old language.

"Gyden ascildan me," he whispered under his breath, glad none of the other guards were nearby to hear him.

"It's just like a woman to let you down," a guttural male voice said into his ear. He swung around and saw no one, wondering if the hours spent in the freezing darkness had affected his mind.

He tried to move his feet to return to his post and realised with a jolt of terror that they were frozen to the ground. As the ice moved slowly upward, he felt the encroaching lassitude of a cold death and by the time he hit the battlement stone, he was already dead

* * *

The warning bell had disrupted what was turning into yet another argument. Merlin had asked Morgana to repeat the entire story from beginning to end for the third time and she had accused him of not believing her.

"I believe you, Morgana," he'd asserted. "I don't trust you as far as I can throw you, which as Arthur will tell you is not far at all, but I do believe you about your dream. I just... we're missing something that's all."

"I can only tell you what I saw," she said angrily.

"Soo... _something's_ going to kill all of us for _some reason_ at _some stage_ but the dream didn't tell you when or what or who?"

"No, Merlin, it didn't," she said impatiently and turned away from him to start pacing the room. "For the man who always seems to be sticking his nose in other people's business, I have to say so far I'm unimpressed."

"Hah," huffed Merlin and she turned to see an ironic half-grin on his face, "well, I'm so sorry to disappoint you, _My Lady_."

His disrespectful tone had infuriated her and it was highly likely their new-found alliance would have ended there if the warning bell hadn't pealed out through the soggy morning air. The two brunettes swapped a quick look then they both took off toward the bell; suddenly convinced this was related to the prophesied event that would kill them.

In the corridor, they met Sir Leon and the other knights carrying a guard from the battlements on a stretcher while Gaius fussed over him

"Merlin," Gaius called to him as soon as he saw him, "I need your help."

Merlin just nodded and joined Gaius as they made their way back to his chambers; Morgana trailing along behind them unnoticed.

"I'll inform the King," said Leon, after they laid the body on the pallet in the middle of Gaius' rooms. Then he and the other Knights left the three of them alone.

"Will he be alright?" asked Morgana, seeing for the first time the skin as white as new snow.

"I'm not sure," replied Gaius, so intent on the body in front of him that he seemed barely aware she was there.

He continued his examination than stood back for a moment in contemplation

"He seems to have died from exposure but he's fully clothed and he has none of the external signs."

"External signs?" asked Merlin, curious.

"His lips and his ears and... yes, his fingers and his toes... there's no sign of a blue tinge. His skin isn't puffy, his eyes seem normal. And yet his skin is frozen as though he just..."

Gaius shook his head in bafflement.

"It's as though he froze so quickly that the normal symptoms simply had no time to present themselves."

Merlin and Morgana swapped a concerned glance and Merlin indicated with his eyes that they should leave.

"Morgana and I will go and talk to the other battlement guards," he lied, "maybe they saw something."

"Yes, Merlin, very well," said Gaius vaguely. He still held the man's frozen hand and was looking at it as though it was a new and rare specimen of plant life he'd never seen before. "I'll see if the body can tell me anything more about the cause."

Merlin and Morgana walked quietly but quickly through the corridors and then up the winding staircase and onto the battlements of the inner wall. It was thankfully deserted so they could say they tried to interview the other guards while having an excuse why they hadn't.

"It's just like my dream, Merlin," Morgana began as soon as they saw they were alone.

"I know," he said thoughtfully.

"The body dead and frozen on the ground with no discernible cause of death."

"I know."

"It's already begun and we have no idea what we're dealing with."

"I know."

"Merlin!" she seethed, infuriated at him.

"When you told me the dream, you told me you couldn't contact Morgause because it was winter."

"That's what she told me. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, his eyes still drawn to the town below the inner wall, "but I've never heard of a sorcerer's power lessening in winter."

"And what would you know about it?" she said contemptuously.

He looked straight at her then, an inscrutable look on his face.

"Far more than you realise."

Before she challenged him about such a cryptic statement about magic, he asked, "I mean, have your powers diminished because of the weather? It seems your recent prognostication was very powerful."

"Good point," she said reticently, infuriated that she had to concede anything to him.

"What _exactly_ did she say to you?"

"She said that it was winter and that she had to stay on the Isle of the Blessed."

"Did she ask you to go with her?"

"No, no she didn't. She...

"Merlin... you can't be suggest... Merlin, you may not be able to understand this but Morgause _cares_ about me. She's the only one who knows who I truly am. She accepts me for who I truly am and she would never let anything happen to me. If you're suggesting that she left me here and hid because she knew that something..."

"No," Merlin shook his head. "I saw how she reacted when you... when I... when you were poisoned. I saw how upset she was. I'm just wondering if there's something about... does winter seem harsher to you this year?"

"Yes, but some winters are just harder than others. Now that I think about it, Morgause did saw that it was unusually-harsh."

"Hmm," he said and looked out again on the lower town sprawled before them.

They stood there for a while in a strangely companionable silence while they considered what had happened and what it could possibly mean.

Then they both leaned forward in astonishment and shock.

In front of their eyes, a group of five townspeople exchanging pleasantries in the street stood stock still and then keeled over in the dirt. Nearby, a couple who turned to go to their aid were also struck down.

Other people gathered a discreet distance away, too terrified to approach their friends who were lying solid and still in the street.

And above them, the uselessly-forewarned stood powerlessly by and watched.


	6. Forewarned

**Forewarned**

Gaius' rooms were too small and too crowded for eight bodies and so they lay in one straight deathly row in the Great Hall where just twelve hours before there had been feasting and merriment.

The icy cold demise of the bodies seemed to permeate the giant room and each person who entered the room shivered and complained of cold fingers trailing up their spine.

Uther stood by grimly while Gaius and Merlin examined the bodies for the third time trying desperately to find some explanation for their sudden freezing end.

Morgana simply stood to the side in some shock; almost unable to believe her dream was coming true so quickly. Four days? Did she really wait four days before asking for help? Even in her current angry and vindictive frame of mind, she couldn't countenance the pointless deaths of these simple townsfolk.

The doors opened with a bang and Arthur strode in, Leon and three other knights closely behind.

Uther just nodded in his son's direction before turning back to the frozen bodies before him. Arthur waited for a moment, slightly nonplussed at his father's distraction, and then ploughed on with his report.

"We've interviewed the witnesses, father. They all say the same thing. There were ordinary people going about their business on an ordinary day and they just...," he paused and took a deep disturbed breath, "... dropped. They were standing there and then they were just... dead."

Gaius moved over in front of his King and said softly, "I'm afraid that's what my examination has shown, Sire. The seven new victims are the same as the dead guard. They seem to have frozen with no symptoms, no warning. No one should die of exposure this quickly. It's..."

Gaius paused and Morgana saw Merlin give him a concerned look from where he held one of the dead women's hands.

The pause lengthened in the gloomy cold room and Gaius dropped his eyes, unable to finish his sentence.

"Say it, Gaius," Uther urged him gently. "These deaths are not natural."

"I'm afraid not, Sire. If it had just been the guard and maybe one other, I might think the unseasonably cold weather had caused a natural phenomenon we have simply not seen before. But so many all at once... it seems the only cause of these deaths is... sorcery."

Morgana winced inwardly knowing exactly what would happen next.

"Then we have a sorcerer amongst us and a powerfully evil one. Arthur, you must find them and soon. I want everyone ever suspected of using or having or knowing anything about magic arrested and interrogated."

"Yes, Sire," acquiesced Arthur and he gestured to the Knights to leave the room.

"And Arthur," added Uther to his son's retreating back.

Arthur turned and met his King's steely gaze.

"_Any _means necessary, Arthur. My subjects are dying and you are authorised to use _any_ means to find out who's responsible. Do you understand?"

Arthur faltered slightly then recovered. He opened his mouth – perhaps to argue, perhaps to voice a reservation – then shut it again and gave a short bow. Then he and his knights were gone.

Uther turned to his ward, "Morgana, I want you confined to your chambers."

"What?" she exclaimed angrily, "I will not sit around in luxury while ordinary people are dying."

"You will do as you're told," yelled Uther, frighteningly suddenly, "I have nearly lost you... I have nearly lost you enough times for one life. This time you will be safe. Merlin, escort the Lady Morgana to her chambers."

"Y..yes, Sire," stammered Merlin with a quick glance to Morgana. He raised his eyebrows slightly at her not to argue and she gave him a subtle nod and headed off toward her chambers.

"You're not really going to _try_ to make me stay in my chambers, are you?" she asked Merlin, somewhat viciously.

"I wouldn't dare," he responded, with something like his old levity, "Besides, if we're going to work out what's going on we need to do some research."

"Research? Research, how? Using what? This is magic and there is no information on magic in Camelot. If I could just contact Morgause..."

"You'd ask her to rescue you and leave us all to our fates, no doubt," Merlin said bluntly. "You'll excuse me if I don't think that is our best plan."

"Then what? Sit around and wish for a solution?"

Merlin gave her a quick worried look then stopped in the corridor to face her.

"I don't trust you, Morgana. That's the way things are. But there is something I have to trust you with. I have to trust that you won't run to Uther with this."

Morgana simply gave him a slightly disdainful look and waited.

"There are books on magic in Camelot. Three's a secret room in the library. I found it a few months ago. There may be something there that can help us."

"A store of magic books... in Camelot?" Morgana admitted to being intrigued. "Are you sure?"

Merlin gave a quick nod, a slight look of consternation and then gestured toward the library.

"Coming?"

"You realise you just gave me information that could get you killed," she smirked with a lilt of victory in her voice. "Keeping something like this from the King..."

Merlin blanched and she grinned wider.

"Well now, isn't this alliance going to be interesting," she remarked and then started down the corridor to the library. "Come on Merlin, we have lives to save. Even yours. For now."

He took a deep breath and forced himself to follow her.

And neither of them saw the five new victims carried in on stretchers behind them.


	7. Forearmed

**A/n Do you notice how it's never ever winter in Camelot? Thus the inspiration for this story. **

**Irony: being able to write this story when it's 36 degrees Celsius and there's a tropical downpour outside...**

**

* * *

**

Forearmed

By midday, bodies were piled up, perpetually-frozen, in the Great Hall and even winter could not explain the bitter cold winds that swept through the Lower Town and moaned eerily into the Keep.

Even a casual glance out the window showed ice forming in sheets on top of thatched roofs and crawling dangerously up cobbled streets. Ordinary people, huddled in houses with roaring fires lit to protect themselves, found the flames spluttering and dying in the hearth and winter's fingers creeping unstoppably across bare dirt floors.

Morgana, furs wrapped around her and a blazing fire roaring in her chambers, still could not keep out of the chill that cut through her soft, pale skin and seemed to penetrate her very bones.

She had told Merlin they would not survive this winter. That seemed naive. It now appeared they would none of them survive that day.

"I'm a little cold," remarked Merlin, with typical understatement. Morgana tried to suppress a smile as she took in the thin jacket pulled tight around his skinny frame and the neckerchief wrapped around his head to try to protect his frost-tipped pointy ears. He was hunched over one of the books they'd taken from the library. They had tried working there in secrecy but the plummeting temperature had forced them out and into Morgana's chambers.

Merlin had seated himself right by the fire so Morgana had chosen the chair on the other side of the room. Being this close to him was still unnerving after what he'd done to her. This was certainly a strange alliance.

Morgana tried to focus her tired, blurry eyes on the book in front of her but the realities of four sleepless nights were catching up with her. She slammed the book shut and tried not to rub her exhausted eyes. Showing weakness at this point was unacceptable; even if her wan face and blue-tinged lips made her seem more vulnerable than she would have liked.

Merlin closed his book as well, albeit more gently, than gave her an appraising look.

"It's useless, you know," he said softly.

"What do you mean, useless?" she countered, her voice rising slightly as she rallied with a small burst of anger. "What, you're just giving up? I don't mean this to sound like a compliment, Merlin, because it's not, but when have you ever given up? Evil's afoot. Foil it."

"It's like..." he paused and unconsciously angled his body closer to the fire. His eyes glanced away as he ran the thought through and then he turned back again.

"These books... they're all about magic, right? About spells and incantations and potions? A sorcerer casts them and they're usually... one thing. Does that make sense?"

It didn't, but Morgana just nodded, not wanting to break his concentration.

"Well, there's love spells and sleeping spells and truth spells," he continued, "and... spells to make a bear dance... apparently... but it almost seems like... it almost seems like it's _winter_ that's attacking us. Spells usually have more of a..._focus_... like when everyone fell asleep or the water was poisoned by the afanc. There's a _cause_. Remove the cause..."

"...and the spell breaks," she quietly finished for him, deliberately quelling the small burst of anger at his mentioning the 'cause' of Morgause's sleeping spell. It was fast becoming an old argument and they didn't have the time.

"So, we need to find the focus?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "I don't think so. I think we're dealing with something more... _elemental._ Maybe some sort of elemental spirit?"

"Does such a thing exist?"

"Well, every culture has winter goddesses. There must be a reason for that so..."

"No." Morgana shook her head emphatically. "In my dream... this is going to sound strange but, in my dream the winter wasn't female. It wasn't... alive at all. The winter was like a weapon. Like... a knife. Everyone was dying of the cold but my throat was slashed. I don't think it was really slashed. I think it was a symbol."

"That the winter was being used like a knife to cut our throats?"

"Exactly. And besides, it was a woman's voice I heard that was trying to _help_ us."

"A woman? You didn't mention this before."

"Well, it's not important," she said hurriedly. She was hardly going to admit the woman in the dream had bathed him in light.

She shivered then and moved closer to the fire, closer to him, and tried to absorb as much warmth as possible.

"What about Cenred?" Merlin asked suddenly, his mind having obviously taken off in a new direction.

She looked at him, lit by the flickering amber of the flames; noticing for the first time how fiercely intelligent his eyes could be and feeling uncomfortable in that piercing gaze. She was not often open to introspection but in that moment wondered how much of her hatred of him was because she felt that he saw right through her. The real her. And disliked what he saw.

Well, it was decidedly mutual.

"What about him?" Morgana asked sharply, her defensiveness mounting again.

"You and Morgause conspired with Cenred to bring down Camelot. He had the army but Camelot's defences are near impenetrable to direct attack. He needed Uther debilitated and the distraction of the second army within Camelot's walls to have any chance of taking the Kingdom."

"How did you know that?"

"It's logical," Merlin replied dismissively. "You raised the dead to be the second front. But the second front failed when I destroyed the Rowan staff. Cenred was forced to withdraw. How did he react to that?"

"I have no idea. I wasn't there."

"I wonder if he was angry. Felt that Morgause had let him down. Angry enough to find another sorcerer to call upon the elements for him. Angry enough not to care whether his allies were caught in the crossfire."

"Cenred's representative," Morgana concluded angrily. "He's here in Camelot and this started just after he arrived."

"Then I suggest," Merlin said grimly, "that we pay him a visit."

She'd given him another coat in the end, even though it was designed for a woman. It was a strange look for him, but at least he wouldn't freeze to death in the halls. They made their way slowly and cautiously to the visitor's wing, avoiding patrols as they went. The Lady Morgana was supposed to be confined to her chambers, not wandering around deserted areas of the castle with a serving boy.

Finally in the right wing, they knocked on the right door, then entered when they didn't get a reply. They both stopped in shock; struck at just how _wrong_ the room was. Covered in ice and frozen with one arm raised to spoon a forkful of food into this mouth, Cenred's representative sat in a chair at the table obviously in the middle of eating breakfast.

Piles of snow surrounded him in great waves of white and icicles had formed on the ceiling and on the edges of the table, the bed and the other furniture. The entire room was winter's cold and patient revenge.

"If he did do this, it appears he made a bit of a mistake with the spell," Morgana noted, somewhat wryly.

"If he did do this, then the only person who can tell us how to _undo_ it is dead," Merlin corrected her. "And so are we."

**

* * *

**

A/N Canon aside, I always thought Cenred was kind of pissed with Morgause at the end of that episode.


	8. Vaticination

A/n This was always intended to be short and simple. Maybe 10 chapters all up?

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* * *

**

Vaticination

The strange thing was, Morgana thought, when she was a child she loved winter. There were no battles to fight, no Kingdoms to sack, no wealth to plunder in Uther's name. Her father stayed at home and they sat, sometimes for days on end, near the fireplace in her father's chambers playing games and talking while he managed his household from his chair.

Winter was the time of family.

That had ended when Uther had ordered her father into a battle he could never hope to win. Suddenly, she was in Camelot and winter was a claustrophobic ordeal; months of enduring close quarters with the man she blamed for her father's death.

Summer was the time of freedom.

Now it seemed there would be no more summers; no more freedom. Just cold icy death on nameless ground where once stood the proud castle of Camelot. Would its name sing through time or would its tune freeze in the air?

* * *

A great booming crash reverberated through the castle as Merlin and Morgana made their ways through the corridors; not entirely sure where to go or what to do. The image of Cenred's man's gruesome death plagued their thoughts as they walked quickly and they tried to simply get as far away as possible while they tried to work out what to do next.

The booming sound seemed to shake the ground and a cloud of dust billowed down the hall filling their lungs with icy dirt.

Material clamped over their faces, coughing uncontrollably, the two turned around and ran sightlessly back toward the Great Hall. Clear of the dust and rubble finally, they stopped to cough up the debris.

"Wh..." Morgana tried to speak then began spluttering as she tried to expel the last of the dust from her lungs. "What was that?"

Merlin held up his finger to signify he needed a moment then put his hands on his knees and gave a number of harsh barking coughs. He drew in a desperate breath then looked up at her.

"I think... I think," he coughed again, "I think the north tower collapsed. It was weakened during Cenred's attack and if the water in the mortar froze and then enough snow was piled up on top of it..."

"Merlin, castles were built to withstand winter. Bits of it don't just _collapse _because it's a bit cold. "

"Normal winter," he corrected her, his voice still hoarse. "The speed at which the mortar froze was unusually fast. And any mortar damage from water expansion in winter is usually fixed every summer."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"No reason you should." Merlin straightened up and looked around.

"I need you to go to Gaius and ask him about... spells invoking the elements. Tell him everything we know so far – however little that is. See if he knows anything."

"Why would Gaius know anything?"

"He's been here a long time, Morgana. Back even before magic was banned. He knows more than people give him credit for."

"And what will you do while I'm talking to an old man?"

"I'll run back to that room in the library and see if I can find a text on elemental magic."

"Another book?" she asked him sceptically.

Merlin smiled tiredly.

"I know, but it's all I can think of at the moment. Something about this doesn't make sense and we need as much information as we can get."

Morgana nodded, slightly suspicious at his sudden determination to split up.

"Merlin, the castle is collapsing and the people in the Lower Town are freezing o death. The castle is better insulated but it won't be long before we end up exactly like Cenred's friend in that room. We need to do something. _I_ need to do something."

"You mean, magic," Merlin asked her, a slight tone of accusation in his voice.

"Yes," she said, frustrated at his attitude. "Magic may be the only way out of this. Are you really going to let the Kingdom fall and everybody die rather than use magic?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, eyes downcast, "but you don't know what you're doing, what you're dealing with."

"I think I know a hell of a lot more about magic than you do," she spat at him, angrily.

"Fine. Go ahead," he said.

"What?"

"Go ahead. Do magic. Make it all better."

"Well," she admitted, "I don't..."

"Don't know what spell to cast," he finished for her. "Don't know what to do because we don't know what we're dealing with?"

She nodded helplessly.

He smiled ruefully. "Trust me. If we find we need magic to deal with this, we will. But casting the wrong spell could make things worse. Now, go speak to Gaius. I'll meet you back in your chambers. Assuming they're still attached to the castle."

He smiled again and turned to run toward the library while she continued on to the Great Hall.

She pulled her cloak around her as she walked; the temperature dropping fast as she walked. Merlin had been trying to get rid of her; she was sure of it. The question was why. Damn annoying servant didn't make any sense.

She reached out and grabbed the handles of the giant door leading to the hall then pulled them back sharply as they burned with cold fire. A small piece of her hand remained stuck to the metal and blood seeped out slowly from the wound then stopped in the icy air.

She pulled her ermine gloves on, wondering why she had removed them in the first place, and then tugged the doors open. She could feel the handles even through her gloves and wondered how anything could be so cold.

A blast of wind hit her as the doors swung wide and she walked a few steps into the room and stopped in shock. The windows, those stained glassed windows that seemed to fill the room with warm light and colour even on the dullest day, had cracked and shattered and winter's wind had blown in great swelling hills of snow.

"Not a pretty sight, is it?"

Morgana swung around to see Gaius standing quietly behind her.

"There were too many bodies, anyway, too many victims. We've had to leave them on the ground in the town because the guards began to freeze as well. The King and Arthur have been forced to retreat to the Solar where they try to come up with a plan. And you should be in your chambers, My Lady. It is not safe for you to be walking around. Unless you have some reason to think it would be safe... for _you_."

Morgana bristled at the subtle implication and turned a haughty glance on the old man.

"I'm here because _Merlin_ asked me to. He thought you might know something about elemental magic."

"Elemental?" Gaius asked, curious and concerned. He put an arm around her and began shepherding her back toward her chambers.

"Yes," Morgana answered him as she allowed him to escort her up the hall. "The calling of the elements. We think someone might have... summoned winter."

"It's possible," Gaius conceded. "I've see... heard of such spells before."

"Do you remember how they were broken?"

"Morgana, I may have heard of these sorts of enchantments but they never caused the kind of devastation we've seen here. Before the Purge, they were used a lot to blight the crops of an enemy or kill their livestock. A sudden bitter day during planting, a blistering heat when sheep were lambing, a storm that wiped out just a single home. That sort of thing. But this..."

Morgana nodded her understanding and frustration.

"My dear," Gaius began, seeming to draw on the old endearment unconsciously. It had been a long time since he had addressed her so. "If you don't mind me asking, did you perhaps have a dream?"

She gave him a sharp glance then nodded.

"Yes," she answered him softly.

"Maybe it has the answers you seek?"

She nodded, deep in thought, then turned to him and took his hand.

"Thank you, Gaius. You've helped. Really. I can make it the rest of the way on my own. You should return to the solar and give Uther guidance."

Gaius patted her hand then turned around. She waited till he was gone and then ran to her chambers and sat down on the bed. The dream. Gaius was right. The dream was important.

"_You know the truth, Morgana. It's time for the truth to know you."_

It was the woman in the dream. That was the key. There had been something about that voice. It hadn't been a part of the dream originally; it had only come when she'd searched for it. Maybe it wasn't a part of the dream at all. What if it was someone trying to help her?

"Morgause," she whispered to herself. "Using my dream to communicate maybe. But why would she send me to Merlin? She would try to tell me how I could break the spell, not bathe Merlin in light. I'm missing something."

She closed her eyes and turned her attention inward, trying to find the light to show her the way.

_"It is carved from the Rowan tree that grows at the very heart of the Isle of the Blessed"._

_"My magic is still weak."_

_"Cenred's army are mighty but they cannot bring down the city on their own."_

_"Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?"_

_"If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That's what magic's for."_

_"It is carved from the Rowan tree..."_

_"My magic is still weak."_

_"It carries its own power"._

_"It carries its own power."_

_"It carries its own power."_

_The memory of the crypt and the battle receded into a white mist and a woman walked out of it; glowing slightly with a warm light and a smile on her face. Brown hair tumbled to her shoulders and she wore the simple woolen dress of a peasant._

_"Nothing can be done alone. I will help but both of you must stand together. He will show you the way. You know the truth, Morgana. It's time for the truth to know you."_

Morgana opened her eyes on a darkening room with a gasp. She quickly stoked up the fire and lit candles against the gathering gloom. As night fell, this curse would only quicken and strengthen. If they did not act soon, they would never get the chance.

The door swung open and Merlin ran in and nearly thrust his hands into the fire to warm them. His lips and nose and hands were blue and she could see the first telltale signs of frostbite on his fingertips.

"I know what's going on," he said, teeth chattering in his skull. "I know what we have to do. And I know how this happened."

"It's my fault, isn't it?" she asked him softly.

He looked at her directly in that way that made her feel as though he'd tossed her inside out looking for something that wasn't there.

"Yes," he said bluntly. "It is."


	9. Averted

**Averted**

She closed her eyes and turned her attention inward, trying to find the light to show her the way.

_"It is carved from the Rowan tree that grows at the very heart of the Isle of the Blessed"._

_"My magic is still weak."_

_"Cenred's army are mighty but they cannot bring down the city on their own."_

_"Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?"_

_"If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That's what magic's for."_

_"It is carved from the Rowan tree..."_

_"My magic is still weak."_

_"It carries its own power"._

_"It carries its own power."_

_"It carries its own power."_

_The memory of the crypt and the battle receded into a white mist and a woman walked out of it; glowing slightly with a warm light and a smile on her face. Brown hair tumbled to her shoulders and she wore the simple woollen dress of a peasant._

_"Nothing can be done alone. I will help but both of you must stand together. He will show you the way. You know the truth, Morgana. It's time for the truth to know you."_

Morgana opened her eyes on a darkening room with a gasp. She quickly stoked up the fire and lit candles against the gathering gloom. As night fell, this curse would only quicken and strengthen. If they did not act soon, they would never get the chance.

The door swung open and Merlin ran in and nearly thrust his hands into the fire to warm them. His lips and nose and hands were blue and she could see the first telltale signs of frostbite on his fingertips.

"I know what's going on," he said, teeth chattering in his skull. "I know what we have to do. And I know how this happened."

"It's my fault, isn't it?" she asked him softly.

He looked at her directly in that way that made her feel as though he'd tossed her inside out looking for something that wasn't there.

"Yes," he said bluntly. "It is."

* * *

He crouched down by the fire desperately trying to warn his hands while she stand there, silently, and watched him. She tried to stop, to think through the consequences but her natural defences slammed down and she found herself attacking him despite herself.

"So what now, Merlin? Poison? A sword? Or will you just leave me for the winter? Isn't that what you do to friends who make mistakes?"

He simply shook his head, ignoring her tone and her words.

He shook his head sadly. "It doesn't matter, Morgana. You can be as defensive as you like but I think you know what I'm saying is true."

Her bravado faded with the day as the sun finally set. There was only this room after all. That was the world. There was possibly no one left to bluster to.

"Something to do with the staff?" she asked, meeting his eyes bravely, "Using the staff to raise the dead like that. The staff's power..." Morgana trailed off; not having the knowledge to finish the sentence.

_It carries its own power._

The silence filled the room for the moment; this last bastion against the cold and for a second the sheer claustrophobic _wrongness_ of that enclosed space made her want to rush right out into the very literal depths of winter outside.

Merlin cleared his throat and stood from where he'd crouched by the fire to face her. She looked at his steel-blue eyes and realised that she was finally meeting, not the bumbling servant boy, but the man who had thwarted her plans time and again.

When he spoke, his voice held such authority that she did not argue, did not even question how he could know the things he suddenly did. She just knew he was telling her the truth.

"In the world," he said, calm and forthright, "there is a... balance... a flow of energy. There is life and there is death and these balance each other out. Death is the ultimate result of life but life also only exists because it is balanced by death. You cannot have one without the other and, should the natural order be disrupted, there are consequences. There are _always_ consequences.

"I don't think you've ever realised that. You see the action but not the reaction. You never think that far ahead. But Morgause did. She knew."

"Knew what?" asked Morgana softly, wanting desperately to argue but understanding with sudden vivid clarity that her role in the story now was to listen.

"She knew that using the staff to bring the dead to life would upset the balance. But they would only walk the Earth for a few hours. Whether I stopped you or you won, the dead would be returned. The imbalance would be small. But it would be there, at least for a while. Any other strong magic near that point, near Camelot..."

Morgana cast her eyes down. "That's why she went to the Isle of the Blessed. When the winter turned bitter she realised that she couldn't use her magic, serious magic, without making the imbalance worse. And who knew what the consequences would be."

Merlin walked to the window and swung his hand wide to gesture at the snowscape below her chambers. It was clear now what the consequences were.

The stood like that for a moment then he unexpectedly turned and gave her a small wry smile.

"You disrupted the world, Morgana, but the fault doesn't lie with just you. We would have survived this harsh season but someone used powerful magic within Camelot to bring this on. I think it was Cenred's man. I think he was actually a sorcerer sent by Cenred. I think he called upon the elements to make this so severe and debilitating a winter that Cenred could conquer us easily in the spring."

"He couldn't have known?" Morgana protested. "It's suicide."

"I don't know whether he realised or not. But the spell did its job nonetheless. It did its job far too well."

Morgana nodded, absorbing the information and determined to _think_ despite the dire situation they were in.

"You got all this from a book?" she asked him, unexpectedly. Suspiciously. They'd spent hours in the library initially. He'd been gone only an hour or so.

He nodded, somewhat evasively she thought.

"Well, did this _book_ have a solution?"

"Yes, it did," he answered, "We have to restore the balance."

"The balance?"

"The balance between life and death, the flow that keeps the world functioning as it should be. Once that happens, this magic will recede and winter will just be... winter. The spell is simple: Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes, féhan ásegendnes, Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes."

"Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes,

féhan ásegendnes,

Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes."

Morgana repeated the spell with Merlin correcting her pronunciation until she thought she'd gotten it right.

"Here," he said, as they faced the windows looking out into the cold death of night, "hold my hand. You will need my strength."

She looked at his long tapered fingers that would be so elegant if it wasn't for the scrapes, cuts and calluses and laughed suddenly. A deep resounding laugh in the gloom.

He gave a small giggle and a smile in response though he obviously had no idea what she was laughing at.

"I was just thinking," she admitted, "that when the end finally came I certainly never expected to be holding hands with you."

She slipped her hands into his, noting with surprise how thin they were. Almost like a skeleton.

"Merlin, since we are possibly going to die right now, I have to confess. My magic... it's still weak. It's why I use dolls and poultices and things. I've only just begun to..."

"Morgana," he interrupted her, "you can do this. You can do this because you have to do this and you would be amazed at what you can achieve when you must. Now, just remember the words. Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes, féhan ásegendnes, Gerétan helerung lifes déadlicnes."

"Gerétan helerung... Merlin!" She wrenched her hand from his grasp and turned to him angrily. "Féhan ásegendnes. Féhan ásegendnes. It was in a spell Morgause taught me once. It means 'take this sacrifice'. My God, you were trying to trick me. I should have known. Merlin saves Camelot and Morgana dies. I can even see you now, shedding false tears at my funeral. I can't believe I actually _trusted you_ to..."

"Morgana!" he yelled at her and his tone stopped her in an instance. He visibly calmed himself then continued, "I didn't tell you what the spell meant because I knew you wouldn't trust me. But it will not work unless there is a death to balance the deaths that we will prevent. _You_ are the one saying the spell. You are the giver of the sacrifice, not the sacrifice itself. Now, as I said, you _need to take my hand _and say the spell. It cannot be done alone."

_Nothing can be done alone, _the strange woman's voice chimed in her head.

"I'm sorry that last time I didn't find another way. Poisoning you was wrong and I...I have been a coward in every way possible. I even saved your life last week because I was too weak to bear everybody's grief. But now is my time. I will not be a coward anymore. Take. My. Hand."

"Saved my..." She thought back to when she fell down the stairs and everyone telling her what a miracle it was that she survived.

"You used magic to save me," she asked him, trying to make it sound like an accusation but failing. The shock was too much.

"Yes," he said bluntly, "it was the only way. And this is the only way now. Take my damn hand!"

"No," she argued, "no. It can't be the only way. She said that you would show me the way, not that you would _die_. In the dream, you lived. In the dream... in the dream, _I died_. You say the spell. If you have cast a spell before then you can do it again. You must say the spell and I must be the sacrifice. Trust me, Merlin," she said with a small laugh, " it's a role I am used to playing."

"Don't be a martyr, Morgana," he argued angrily, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh, and it suits the coward?"

"I never used to be a coward. I just... I lost my way somehow. Let me regain some self-respect. Please. It's my turn."

"No, there has to be another way. The woman in my dream..."

She stepped forward, closed her eyes and raised her hands to the roof as if a supplicant on a midnight field in summer.

"Please, help us. Whoever you are. You've led me this far but if we do this someone will die and I... I don't want this. Not this time."

A bright light coalesced in front of Morgana and a woman walked out of it; glowing slightly with a warm light and a smile on her face. Brown hair tumbled to her shoulders and she wore the simple woollen dress of a peasant.

"You found me," she said simply.

"Help us," Morgana begged her. Merlin stood behind her simply looking stunned.

The woman smiled again.

"My name is Elaine. I am a sorcerer from the Isle of the Blessed."

"Then how can you be here? Morgause..."

"Morgause is wrong. But then, she is about most things after all. Not that she doesn't lack for enthusiasm or determination. But she believes, to use an old cliché, that the ends justify the means. They do not. My coming will upset the balance further but, with the three of us together, we can restore what should be."

"Morgause," argued Morgana, "would not leave me here to die if there was a way."

"Of course not. She scried and saw that you and Merlin would work together and that he would be sacrificed to save you and the kingdom she hopes that you will one day rule. An enemy defeated and a kingdom undermined. She let it be."

Elaine looked at Merlin with a faint smile.

"He lied to you, you know."

"Who?" Morgana asked her but Merlin just looked thoughtful.

"He often does," Elaine continued. "He tells you _a_ way but not _the_ way. A way that suits his ends. He told you to sacrifice her. You chose to ignore him this time. Well done.

"But nonetheless, there is another spell, another way, and we three shall have enough power to make it happen. To save everybody, even those who have died unnecessarily so far. All will be well."

"How are we supposed to trust you?" Merlin protested, "You're a sorcerer, a woman from the Isle of the Blessed and you just _appear_ offering us everything we could possibly want? How are we supposed to trust that?"

"I am from the Isle of the Blessed and it grieves me that your experiences so far would lead you to question my motives based on that alone. Perhaps I will tell you that I read this tale once and I did not like what I read. I choose to change the ending."

"That can't possibly be your reason," protested Merlin, "that's so..."

"I am immortal, Merlin. One of the Nine as Morgause is not. As she will never be. I have seen everything, everywhere at every time and I do not often intervene. I know how this was supposed to end. I choose otherwise. It is my right. But I needed to be sure that Morgana had learned that she is not as alone as she thought. I needed to see you were not still twisting in the hands of your puppet master. I needed to be sure you finally had the courage to break free."

"The spell needs a sacrifice," he argued, "the balance must be restored through a death. Of all people, I know that."

"You know very little," she stated, her soft voice taking the sting from the insult. "A few old books and his manipulative mutterings. You do not even know what you do not know. But that will change and you will learn. Now, take my hands. This will be over in only a few minutes and then the sun will shine on a brand new day."


	10. Fated?

**Fated?**

When dawn broke, she left the castle; the craziness of Uther's rantings and Gaius' placating and Arthur's bewilderment. She walked through the cold streets feeling the light winter sun upon her brow as though it was a blazing torch of warmth and life.

It felt good, she realised, to be there in those streets with all those people whose lives she'd saved. She almost didn't care that they would never know.

Almost.

The spell had worked just as Elaine had promised it would. No death, no sacrifice. She had used her magic to help, not to hurt, and she did admit that it felt good.

"My Lady," a townsman greeted her brightly.

"Thank the Gods you're well, My Lady," a plainly-dressed woman called out to her as they passed.

"The Gods have smiled upon Camelot," said an old man sitting on a chair in front of his simple wooden house.

Elaine had said even the frozen would walk again and she had spoken the truth. Even now, they lay recovering in the Great Hall and in houses and on cobblestoned streets as the ice melted, dripped and pooled around their warm bodies. Uther ranted in the throne room about sorcery but it seemed unlikely even he would put hundreds of innocent victims to death.

Morgana reached the edge of the outer gate then turned around and walked back toward Gaius' quarters where she hoped Merlin was still resting after their night's activities. The spell had seemed to take more out of him than her. She suspected he had cast that one spell to heal her and didn't have any natural aptitude for magic. Still, the lengths he would go to…

She paused on the threshold of the small group of rooms; a sudden rush of doubt assailing her. It was strange, really. Doubt was a rare companion on her journey. And yet here it was. Maybe Elaine was right. Maybe they all really knew very little.

A shuffling footstep to her side made Morgana pause and turn with the disconcerting realisation she was being watched. Elaine stood there, her brown hair still falling softly onto her peasant clothing.

The sorcerer smiled at her gently.

"Are you well, Morgana?" she asked, to the Lady's astonishment.

"Well? I am astonishingly well. You have helped us save Camelot, save everyone, save ourselves."

"Helped is the right word. You did this too, my dear. You and Merlin both."

"Thank you," Morgana told her genuinely."Merlin was right. Using magic like this... it did feel good."

"I'm glad. Then it was worth it."

"Worth it?" Morgana shook her head slightly in confusion.

"The spell, Morgana. It did require a sacrifice. So much death: it couldn't be balanced out without a great gift of life. I couldn't let Merlin take that upon himself. I couldn't let you be the one to make it happen."

"Make what happen? What are you…? Whose life? You said it could be done without death."

"And it was. For now."

Elaine smiled and brushed one hand along her cheek.

"My immortality, Morgana. I am mortal now. As mortal as you are. But I helped you rewrite your story. It was worth it. _You_ are worth it."

"But you'll die," Morgana protested.

"We all die, Morgana. Death is just a thing that happens, like life. It is the choice that is important, not the death itself. I chose. Now, I must go. I must return to Avalon and make the preparations I need to pass from the world at a time of my own choosing. Be well, my dear."

And she faded way before Morgana's eyes.

Morgana gave a slight smile and turned back to the door to Gaius' chambers. Strange how the thought of someone caring about her future could impact her so strongly. She felt… different. More powerful somehow. Calmer. More in control.

She pressed her hand to the doorknob and pushed the door open. Merlin was in the main room as she had hoped he'd be. He glanced up from where he was mopping up some melted snow and gave her a small grimace.

"I'll be cleaning till Christmas," he griped.

"Well, you are a servant," she replied archly, "it's your job."

"True," he conceded. "Still, that's the problem with saving the Kingdom when you're me. You have to clean up your own mess."

"Merlin, I…" she began, but stopped. When it came down to it, she was still Morgana and sincerity was an emotion she was unfamiliar with, at least in recent times.

He squeezed out the mop and placed it in the corner then turned back to her and shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you remember the afanc in the water supply?"

She nodded, unsure what he was getting at.

"We worked together to stop it. I thought… I guess I thought it would… be like that. That's how I thought this story would go. And then… what happened, Morgana? How did we get here?"

"I don't know," she admitted in a rare moment of candour. "It makes very little sense to me sometimes."

"I am _sorry_ for poisoning you. I should have found another way."

She gave a small acknowledging dip of her chin, not sure what to say.

"I hope," he continued, "I hope that we can do this. I hope that we can work together again."

"You said magic should be used for good," she said, "I think I understand what you meant now. It… it meant a lot for me that you were willing to die for me, for Camelot. After everything that's happened… it meant a lot."

She smiled.

"Now, you'd better get back to mopping. A servant's work is never done."

He gave her a grin in return.

"Don't I know it? Save the Kingdom and what do I get? Mopping duty."

She turned to leave and then turned back again, struck with a sudden thought.

"Merlin, what did Elaine mean when she said that 'he' had lied to you? What was she talking about?"

Merlin looked up from his mopping and paused for a moment. Then he swallowed and she knew he lied when he answered, "No idea."

She felt her face harden slightly and left the chambers, small flickers of annoyance returning to her slightly as she walked.

A chambermaid tripped past her with a grin on her face and she saw her world in a different light. She had done this, saved these people's lives. They would never know it but _she_ had done this. It made her feel more powerful than any of Morgause's plots had done.

She walked into her chambers, noting with relief that they were blissfully empty, and sank down onto her bed. She hadn't slept, she realised, in well over a day and the force that her driven her through the night was seeping away.

She looked over and saw her bracelet sitting beside her bed where she'd left it. She took it gratefully and tugged it back on her wrist. It would be good to go back to uninterrupted sleep.

"Hello sister." Morgause's quiet voice interrupted her reverie. She looked up to find her standing in the middle of her room; a dark cape covering her wild blonde hair.

"Sister," Morgana acknowledged her, wishing she'd had more sleep before this conversation.

"It is good to see you well," said Morgause, moving forward to take her hands. "I'm sorry that I had to abandon you. I only just have enough strength now to come to you."

"Elaine said you knew what would happen. She said you scried and saw all this devastation. Is that true?"

"Yes," Morgause answered calmly. "I saw that Merlin would die and Camelot would fall. I knew that you were in no danger."

"But the people, Morgause, the ordinary people."

"Casualties of war, sister. You know this. How much more will they suffer should Uther's reign continue? How much more will they suffer when Arthur inherits and continues his father's work?"

"But surely there has to be another way," Morgana argued helplessly. "Surely we should be better than them?"

"And we will, sister. We will. When you are on the throne and magic has returned, Camelot will be a better place. Some of the best rulers in history had to commit great wrongs to get the power to do great rights. And until Uther is gone, we must play by the rules he has set down."

"Lies? And betrayal?"

"Until they are no longer needed."

"I just don't know," Morgana admitted tiredly. "I just don't know."

"I know these last few days have been hard on you. You are tired. Please, get some rest and perspective and then see how you feel."

Morgause pulled a bracelet out of her sleeve; a large amber jewel gleaming in the dull winter morning.

"And when you are rested, you can see how you feel about this."

"What is that?" Morgana asked her curiously.

"It is an eye of the phoenix. When activated, it will slowly drain the life from one who wears it."

"And what do you want me to do with it?"

"Arthur has reached the age when he must embark on a quest to prove his readiness for the throne. When he does…," she tapped the bracelet and placed it on the table beside Morgana's bed.

"It is your choice, sister. I won't force you to do or be anything you don't want to. But when the time comes, you have the means to do what needs to be done should you so choose."

Then she turned toward the window and with a flash of light, she was gone.

Morgana walked to the window and looked out on the people scurrying joyfully about their business on a brand new day. She had done this. She had made their lives better. Merlin walked across the courtyard carrying his cleaning bucket and threw the water out before making his way back toward the castle gates.

After everything that had happened, he had lied to her again. He still could not be trusted. But he was right about one thing. She could achieve great things with her magic. All she needed was the opportunity.

She looked back at the bracelet lying gleaming on her nightstand and then back at the street. She turned and moved towards it; staring at it sitting so innocuously on the dark wood.

_Imagine_, she thought, _all the good I can do when I am Queen. Imagine this Kingdom then._

And she picked up the bracelet and gave it a long speculative look. And smiled.


End file.
